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Everyone took game losses differently, Gen.G were no exception. They played, they lost, they reviewed, they pointed fingers and then they moved on. But Kiin wasn’t as green, or type ‘B’, as their bot duo so if it still stung a few days later he didn’t show it. It was what it was but it seemed easier for those two to move on than anyone else. Sometimes it made Kiin jealous. More often he’d just be grateful they had each other to confide in.
He also didn’t queue League into the early hours of the morning. Not anymore. Jihoon kicked that habit for the regular season years ago too, but qualifying matches were another story. He was probably still playing. Even Geonbu, whose expression never seemed to change no matter how badly they were stomped, always fell a little more in important matches. There were less of those these days, at least, but Kiin still hated losing.
Geonbu was asleep when Kiin left and the jealousy smarted. If he could’ve slept it off he would have but that’d never been a reliable option.
Instead of doing anything he would’ve done a year ago —like crying or sulking or rage queuing Renekton until he couldn’t mistime his combos— he went for a walk. In the middle of the night, cold nipped at his fingertips despite how hot the days were. Kiin tugged his sleeves down and shivered. He should’ve brought a thicker coat.
It wasn’t long after that he found himself at a familiar bench, staring at trees he’d walked past a hundred times at least. The park was small, more a block of grass than a real park, but it was peaceful at night. Quiet. Not the deafening roar of 5,000 people cheering for their opponents. Not Jihoon calling for them to fall back before their final bow, and not the dampened screams of T1 fans that they couldn’t escape until they got in the van.
The games circled around his head. They could’ve won the series. They should have. There were a million things they should’ve, would’ve, could’ve, but in the end it was them who ended up watching the winners ceremony from the side.
But it didn’t matter how much Kiin hated losing; he hated the tension that followed even more.
T1 were probably celebrating so it wasn’t a surprise that his phone was silent, but still…
Kiin’s pocket buzzed and he scrambled for his phone, opening the messenger on instinct. It was just the weather; there would be a heat wave tomorrow. Kiin stared at his messages instead. He couldn’t help himself.
Kiin: Congratulations hyung, you played well
Kiin: I like the hat
He considered deleting the second message, but the typing bubble popped up before he could take it back. Just because that cap suited Sanghyeok stupidly well didn’t mean he needed to know.
Sanghyeok hyung: Thank you, you all played exceptionally well. I had a lot of fun.
Sanghyeok hyung: I’ll bring an extra next time, I think it would look nice on you.
It shouldn’t have made Kiin smile but it did. Anything to get his mind off the game, even if his opponent was the only thing that worked.
Kiin: It wouldn’t
Kiin paused, bit his lip and hesitated over the keyboard. This wasn’t the MSI finals or the semis. It wasn’t EWC, it wasn’t Worlds and it certainly wasn’t the off season. They had breathing room that looming retirement hadn’t snuffed out. Yet. But for now…
Kiin: Can I call you?
His phone rang a second later.
“Kiin-ah, are you alright?” Sanghyeok said. His voice soothed a childish, mean part of Kiin that wanted to say no. Instead, he sank further into the bench.
“I’ve been better.”
“Was your review that bad?”
“It was fine.”
Their coaches were good but they couldn’t fix everything. Kiin blinked up at the sky. A plane flew overhead. The sky was empty, though. Not that there would be any more stars in Daejeon but…
“I missed you.” He said simply, ignoring the silence on the other end. “Sorry. I know you’re celebrating but I wanted to hear your voice.”
“Don’t apologise, you’re not interrupting anything. And I like talking to you.”
“You’re not ditching a winners party, are you?”
Sanghyeok’s jingling laugh on the other end was beautiful.
“We barely made the play-ins, I’m not celebrating just yet. When we lift the trophy I’ll consider it.”
“You’ll be on a plane by then.”
“We’ll be on a plane.” Sanghyeok corrected. A whoosh of air rushed past the speaker and Kiin couldn’t tell whose end it was on. Probably his, it was still freezing. “I think I could convince Jihoon to swap seats. How long’s the flight again, twelve hours?”
“Something like that. Are you…”
Movement down the street caught his attention. There, lit by the bright neon lights of a familiar convenience store, Sanghyeok waved at him. His wide smile was only comparable to the winner’s interview earlier that night. It was easier to look at when divorced from the T1 branding, not that he had much trouble anyway.
Kiin stood up and —when Sanghyeok was close enough to touch— fell into his open arms. They couldn’t touch on stage or backstage or really anywhere for the last ten days. It was so warm. Kiin squeezed tighter and relished the fingers tracing patterns on his back. He smelt like coconut bodywash.
“How’d you find me?” Kiin asked, voice muffled by thick cotton. Nevermind, the hoodie underneath was T1 branded.
“My unending love and devotion.”
“Shut up.”
Sanghyeok laughed again. “You’re still sharing your location, Kiin-ah. I couldn’t help myself, especially since you came all the way out.”
Shit. He was, wasn’t he? Kiin grumbled and reached for his phone. Well, if it was only Sanghyeok he didn’t mind so much. And he liked looking at Sanghyeok’s little picture on the map too.
“I thought I turned that off.”
“I made you keep it on for First Stand, remember?”
How could he forget? Every day he’d get a new screenshot with a star drawn around his profile in Brazil and ‘fighting!’ on the side. When they lost he got a sad face and ‘fly home safe’ written in chunky black pen. In the airport, after thirty miserable hours in the air, he unlocked his phone to a heart drawn around their profiles in Seoul and nearly cried on the ride home.
“I guess I’ll leave it on.” Kiin said, looking up just in time to see Sanghyeok’s radiant smile. The losses to T1 weren’t all bad. “Do you want something to eat?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
They spent the next hour eating junk food on the T1 rooftop and talking about whatever random thing Sanghyeok saw that day. There was an interesting bird in Wonju that morning. Apparently it was orange. His voice was a pleasant drone and Kiin couldn’t help slumping into his boyfriend. The cement at their back was cold but Sanghyeok’s hands were so warm.
“I was going to take a photo but it flew away. Not that it would’ve shown up that well anyway, it was tiny. Suhwanie’s eyes are so much better than mine, I can’t believe he spotted it.”
Sanghyeok squeezed his hand. Full of energy despite the long day, but that was to be expected from the winner. Kiin yawned. It could’ve been him, it should’ve been. Seeing the proof of Sanghyeok’s excitement up close made losing sting a little less and that was a very dangerous feeling.
“It was so cute, Kiin-ah. You know, it reminded me of you.”
“Because it was small?”
“Ah, I thought you missed that part.”
Kiin snorted, hooking a leg over Sanghyeok’s. The blanket beneath them helped with the cold but not much. If it weren’t summer he’d probably be frozen through already.
“I always listen to you.” Kiin murmured. The silence that settled after was soft and light. It wasn’t often that Kiin got sappy enough to admit he liked Sanghyeok but it couldn’t be helped. Big matches had always made him sensitive regardless of the outcome. Last July was a mess. “Even your interviews. I can’t believe Suhwan was the only one who laughed at that dumb joke.”
“Suhwanie’s still new, he’ll stop listening eventually.” Sanghyeok said, smile audible in his voice. That was debatable. They’d been together nearly two years and Kiin had yet to see anyone on T1 look at Sanghyeok with anything but thinly veiled affection.
“I haven’t.”
“Good. I put a lot of effort into making you happy.”
“Hyung…” Kiin groaned into Sanghyeok’s shoulder. It did little to hide his smile and heat climbing up his neck. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to how generous Sanghyeok was with his words.
The low hum of industrial fans whirred from the other side of the rooftop, loud despite the distance. They would’ve spent the rest of the night ignoring the elephant in the room if Kiin let them. Part of him wanted to. He couldn’t really confide in a rival about strategy or comps or communication issues and the pleasant silence was a break from the dorms. Tension hung thick in the air when they all knew the ‘MSI Two-Time Defending Champions Fail to Qualify’ headlines were inevitable. Kiin would’ve killed for the white noise he usually hated. Even the snoring.
“You played really well tonight. You deserved the win.” He said instead, like if his voice was soft enough he wouldn’t break the bubble of peace. When Sanghyeok didn’t respond, he continued. “I guess all those custom matches helped. You laned into me a lot better.”
“Don’t be too complimentary. It might go to my head.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Kiin yawned. It was late and should’ve been in bed an hour ago. They didn’t have practice until the afternoon but it didn’t hurt to be punctual.
“You’re not going soft on me, are you?” Sanghyeok whispered. It was barely a question. More passing comment than accusation, but Kiin sat up regardless. It would’ve offended him if it weren’t true. Age was catching up to all of them and he’d just missed his last MSI. It wasn’t a crime to be sappy, but Sanghyeok had his own eccentricities and Kiin was happy to indulge him.
“I’ve still got six months of bloodlust left. You’re not getting that four-peat.”
Sanghyeok’s eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Kiin kissed the bright, boyish grin off his face. Nothing got him quite as excited as good old fashioned competitive spirit.
The kiss was short and sweet. Kiin sighed, letting his hands look around Sanghyeok’s neck and squeeze. He tasted like sugar and SPF lip balm. Ever meticulous, even at night. Light fingers danced over Kiin’s back, pulling them closer together and tickling him in the process. He laughed into Sanghyeok’s mouth and their teeth clacked together. A hand reached up to soothe his jaw before he registered the pain.
Sanghyeok’s eyes crinkled at the corners. Lips trembling like he could barely contain his laughter. That kind of mood was infectious and Kiin had never been immune. Ever. Not that he was complaining. Tomorrow was a new day. Kiin would wake up, sulk for an hour, head to the practice rooms and get on with his life.
“Do you want a lift home or are you staying?” Sanghyeok asked when he finally calmed down. A glint of mischief stayed, though.
“Wouldn’t it be too weird?”
“Don’t be silly, you’re always welcome.” When Kiin hesitated again, he lowered his voice and whispered: “What if I snuck you in, hm? Like the old days?”
Kiin snorted before he could stop himself, leaning his head on Sanghyeok’s shoulder. God, he hated how good Sanghyeok was at that.
“I thought everyone was still up?”
“I’ll figure it out. I think they’re winding down now. They should be, in any case. It’s nearly three and our reviews tomorrow won’t be pretty.”
Right, it hadn’t been a clean series for either side.
“Your Sion was good.”
“I learnt from the best.” Sanghyeok said and it was that proud, teasing tone that finally convinced Kiin. He clicked his tongue, took Sanghyeok’s hand and let his boyfriend lead them downstairs.
Kiin liked the T1 dorms. They were clean and modern and a lot warmer than the rooftop. They were also large enough to have individual rooms for all their players which was a lot more convenient than most teams, even though Kiin didn’t have to worry about that these days. Regardless, he’d been there a lot and could count on one hand the amount of times he’d been in the linen closet. He didn’t even need his hands to count how many times he’d been shoved inside.
“This is ridiculous.” He hissed, but Sanghyeok just kissed him quickly and shut the door. That shit eating grin was still burned into his eyelids. ‘Just a minute’ his ass, but he wouldn’t leave early when Sanghyeok looked so excited. It was coming up on five by the time the doorknob rattled again.
Part of Kiin expected someone else to open the door. It would be just his luck if Minseok or, god forbid, Suhwan were to walk in. That would’ve made sense, at least. What didn’t make sense was coming face to face with Jihoon in T1’s linen closet.
They stared at each other for a long, painful moment before Kiin managed to pick his jaw off the floor.
“You’re supposed to be grinding solo-queue.”
“And you’re supposed to be sulking.” Jihoon snipped. He looked frazzled in the slither of light before the door clicked shut. They’d just lost a big match after all. Not that it explained much. “We’re all coping, hyung.”
“Right…” He trailed off. There were voices in the hallway but Kiin didn’t pay them any mind. “Why are you here, anyway?”
Jihoon shushed him as the voices got clearer. That was Sanghyeok and… oh.
It was only after hearing Moon Hyeonjun’s voice from the hall that he registered how Jihoon was dressed. The tank top that was a little loose and pyjama pants that were way too short. Kiin knew those clothes weren’t his even without the T1 logo on the side.
“You’re fucking their jungler.” Kiin said softly, more to himself than Jihoon.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. I just thought it’d be the other one is all.”
He ignored the pained grimace on Jihoon’s face. What Choi Hyeonjoon got up to with him was none of Kiin’s business. Not his circus, not his monkeys or whatever. But he did have a clown to find so he kept his ear pressed to the door and waited.
“I thought you were going out tonight? Did something happen?” Hyeonjun’s muffled voice was closer than Kiin was comfortable with. He did not want to deal with the embarrassment of sneaking around like a teenager. Or Jihoon.
“No, I just needed some fresh air.”
“Did Kiin hyung call again?”
“Well…”
A groan sounded from right outside the door. The shadows of feet blocked some of the light coming in and Kiin held his breath. They kept moving.
“Y’know, you should call him back. He might need someone to talk to.”
“He’ll be fine, Hyeonjun-ah. Let’s just go to bed.”
Sanghyeok’s voice tapered off as they walked away. As stupid as it was sneaking around people that knew they were together, it was a nice distraction. Mostly. Jihoon’s presence on his left served as a reminder that he hadn’t lost alone. It was harder to block out their games when he didn’t have anything else to focus on.
When the sound finally stopped Kiin turned to his left and asked: “When did that start?”
“Not important.”
“Are you together?”
Jihoon sighed, a dull thump hit the door. Probably his head.
“It’s just stress relief. It helped last Worlds so we kept meeting up till it stopped.”
“When was that?”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Kiin remembered their loss last November. It was a weird one but nothing they, barring Minkyu, hadn’t dealt with before. Jihoon usually locked himself in his room till their flight so no one thought to knock on his door. Sneaking someone in would be easy, sneaking out would’ve been even easier. Come to think of it, he did seem more relaxed the morning after and Kiin wouldn’t begrudge his teammates’ more unorthodox habits, especially if they worked. The fact that they were both in the same closet was another reason to keep his mouth shut. Moon Hyeonjun wasn’t his circus either.
“Move. I’ll go first.” Kiin said. He nudged his way off the shelves and creaked the door open. The hall was empty. “Are you staying here?”
Jihoon gave a thumbs up but the relief in the air was palpable. Whatever, Kiin could be nice to his juniors sometimes.
He shut the door and padded down the hall.
There were plenty of things Kiin liked about his current roster, but the only real thing he really missed from years past was the silence. Suhwan may not have known how to use a microwave when he first moved in but he at least had the decency to fail quietly at night. That in mind, his silent disposition had changed about as much as his late night snacking and Kiin really should’ve remembered that when passing through the kitchen.
He got lucky that Suhwan had his back to the doorway. A half empty bottle of soju sat next to an empty ramyeon packet on the counter. Clearly Sanghyeok’s team celebrated even if he didn’t. It made Kiin feel bad about calling him away. He also felt bad about sneaking behind Suhwan but that was neither here nor there. He’d cross that bridge in the morning. With Jihoon preferably.
Sanghyeok wasn’t in his room when Kiin snuck in, but the lights were on and a set of pyjamas was laid out on the bed so he wouldn’t be long. Hopefully. So Kiin texted. Then he changed into Sanghyeok’s pyjamas, then he texted again, laid in bed, and waited. Right as he was about to cave and call, the door flew open and Sanghyeok had a look of alarm on his face so ridiculous that Kiin nearly laughed. Nearly.
Kiin smiled and said: “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I thought you were still hiding, Kiin-ah. Remind me to pre-wash my sheets.”
“Did you find out about your jungler’s secret affair?”
“I found a lot more than that.” Sanghyeok sniffed. “Did you know that was going on?”
“No idea. Jihoon said it started a while ago.”
“I suppose I can let it slide, then. They’ve been subtle up to this point.” Sanghyeok commented, changing his shirt by the dressers. He faced the wall and it was the perfect view of his back. “They did better than us.”
“We weren’t that bad.”
Sanghyeok raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Well… yeah. Their first month together wasn’t the best example, but they’d kept it together through the internationals and didn’t cause a scene until the regular season. Having a major win each didn’t hurt either. And last year it was hard to avoid the high of Minkyu’s first international event being a win. His mood was infectious too, or maybe Kiin was just easily influenced. Any reason to celebrate was a good one if it meant seeing Sanghyeok again and most of them did when they stayed in the same hotel. It was a miracle no one had brought it up with them yet.
“We could’ve been worse.” Kiin amended.
“We could still be worse. Where’s your competitive spirit?”
Sanghyeok threw him a cheeky smile before clicking the lights off. It wasn’t hot enough to swap out the comforters just yet and Kiin wasn’t above clinging to him as soon as they got in bed. The regular season was so busy it wasn’t sustainable to keep meeting in the gaps, but they made room where they could. If that meant taking off early because Sanghyeok’s schedules were awful then Kiin would tank the extra practice during his break.
“Should I come back next week? I could wear one of your jackets before I come up.” Kiin murmured. He had one of Sanghyeok’s uniform sets at home. Mostly for convenience but also because he wore it sometimes too. Not that anyone needed to know.
“That’s more like it, but unless you want to show off to half the European league you should do it tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
But who was he kidding? Kiin’s stolen pyjamas had ‘Faker One and Only’ plastered on the back and he didn’t feel any shame wearing that through the T1 dorms. Caps might’ve been a bridge too far, though, not that it mattered. The bootcamp would take most of Sanghyeok’s time and it wasn’t like Kiin was free, but it would be nice to have a looser schedule, at least for the next few weeks. It helped that neither of them had to leave the country for it.
Kiin shuffled under the blankets, cuddling closer to Sanghyeok despite the warm room. “I’m glad MSI’s in Daejeon this year.”
“Is that your national pride talking?”
“Obviously.”
Sanghyeok giggled, moving closer to leave a smattering of kisses all over Kiin’s face. He wrinkled his nose and poked Sanghyeok in the side. Daejeon wasn’t close enough to warrant staying in the dorms during the tournament, but it was close enough for Kiin to take a train to without anyone wondering where he went at night.
“I’m looking forward to your visit, Kiin-ah. I’ll make sure the rooms are soundproof.”
Even though he couldn’t see Sanghyeok, he could hear that shit eating grin in his voice. It was impressive, honestly.
“Great.” He said dryly, but there was no heat. Their second anniversary was coming up soon and if they couldn’t go out on the exact date then they always had Paris, just in case. Last year it was right in the middle of MSI and this year was no different, but at least they hadn’t been split across the world. Kiin wasn’t sure how he’d cope if they couldn't qualify for either tournament. Or if MSI was any further away. More screenshots of scribbled maps, probably.
He didn’t have to worry about that, though, and as long as they both qualified for Worlds they’d never be mismatched. And they would qualify.
Moonlight shone through the curtain gaps. The darkness of Sanghyeok’s bedroom wasn’t nearly as oppressive as the linen closet but the night’s games still twisted in his mind. But if he closed his eyes, tuned out Sanghyeok’s rhythmic breathing and really, really listened, then he could hear the tryst on the other side of the wall. Still not his business, but at least it didn’t depress him.
As they finally curled up to sleep, Sanghyeok pressed one last kiss to his forehead.
“Goodnight, my love.” He whispered into Kiin’s hair.
And Kiin would blame the late hour if Sanghyeok ever pressed. He’d blame the loss and heightened emotions, he’d blame the faint sounds he couldn’t block out or scathing reviews they’d just had or the scathing reviews they were going to have. He’d blame anything but the fact that that pet name always made him melt. Maybe he was going soft.
“Love you too.”
Sanghyeok squeezed him hard enough to choke but said nothing. He didn’t even open his eyes. It was a mercy on Kiin who hid his flaming cheeks in the blankets. They’d play again soon and Kiin —when his team won, of course— would do the same thing for Sanghyeok in Paris.